


A Critical Role Story: Storm in the Woods

by ReprobateGamer



Series: Critical Role: Stories of Future Told [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Critical Role Spoilers, Dungeon Master - Freeform, Gen, Grey Hunt, Pale Guard, Percy is going to get into trouble, a possible loose end from a vox machina arc, but only as a framing device, future adventures of Vox Machina, vox machina - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReprobateGamer/pseuds/ReprobateGamer
Summary: Not every threat Vox Machina face is world-shattering but there are many lives that our wandering band of misfits have affected through their adventures and not all of them are thankful ...





	1. Part 1

The Dungeon Master walked over to the glowing pedestal in the middle of the room, affixing the blindfold as he moved. The polyhedral shapes that orbited him stayed cleared of the tome, floating in one place showing that is was indeed possible for a magic book to chew on a quill.

The Dungeon Master glared at it until the book sheepishly opened, releasing the quill, which the dungeon master used to make a few notes then left, deliberately, on a nearby table. He moved over to the glass fronted cabinets with the ornate models instead and pondered a moment, then picked several figures from one and placed them into a foam lined tray. He moved along to a second and picked up several more then returned to the pedestal.

"Now then," he murmured to himself, "let's bring it in."

The glow coming from the pedestal flared and visible within shapes formed. These resolved into the realm of Exandria and the continents of the material realm ...

... then it shifted to just Tal'Dorei ...

... then to the Alabaster Sierras in the north west corner ...

... down into the Patchwood south and east of Whitestone ...

... then into a shaded hollow ...

... where a number of figures passed through the trees. One stumbled and was roughly caught and pushed onwards before falling. The group continued without a pause, pushing their way through the thick undergrowth, which glistened and gleamed in the rain, mud sticking to their boots. Most of the group had on similar shades and mismatched armour; the one who stumbled had a long blue coat.

After an hour of travel, the figure leading the group motioned for them all to halt. Several sank against trees, or upon protruding roots. Others remained vigilant at the edges, as did several encircling the figure in blue, bows partially drawn and aimed in their direction.

The group paused for twenty minutes or so, with those who were maintaining a vigil switching places with their compatriots midway, the figure in blue remaining under guard for the duration.

With a low whistle, the group leader started up again and the remainder fell in behind them, continuing on their path as the land began to rise up to meet the peaks of the mountains. It was another thirty minutes or so then the trees suddenly thinned as the group came upon a large hollow.

The group paused as the leader made a call like that of a bird. There was a moment's tension then an answering call came out of the treetops and the group began to descent

A camp became visible in the area which was set on an old river bed and a number of larger trees had watch-out platforms built into their boughs. Longbow-armed lookouts tracked the group as they approached, whilst others kept an eye on the perimeter. A number of short palisades were set between trees, largely designed to increase angles of fire from the lookout positions. Beyond the palisades was a mix of tents and some rough wooden dens.

The group came into the centre of the camp, where a simple woodland hut stood. Other members of the camp came to stand around the group, assembling in front of the hut. The figure in blue was pushed to their knees, hands bound in front of them.

The door to the hut was flung open and a goliath squeezed himself through the human sized door. He took a moment to look over the group.

"Well?" He barked.

The group leader, who certainly had goliath blood in their heritage, grinned cruelly.

"De ambush worked great, boss. We took out a bunch o' dose White Guard and left dem thinking we did head in 'nother direction. An' we captured the big man 'ere."

The head goliath's grin was evil as he looked down at the blue coated figure in the mud before him.

"A good day to you," he said mockingly, gesturing to the figures now surrounding them, "welcome to my court."

The goliath reached down and took the figures chin in one meaty hand forcing his head up.

"And just what should we do with you, I wonder? What should we do with the Lord of Whitestone? What should we do with Percy de Rolo?"

The goliath sneered at the pale faced human in front of him. With his other hand, he reached up and roughly pulled on the necklace around Percy’s neck. Percy winced from the sting as the necklace was pulled away.

"Don't fret yourself, your Lordship," continued the goliath in the same mocking tone as he released the human in a swift motion and regarded the pendent in his fist. "We get you a necklace to replace this. One made from hemp."

The goliath glanced off to Percy's side and he looked towards a large tree towards the edge of the camp. Two bodies were hung from one of the branches, their Grey Hunt insignia's ripped and hangman's nooses tight around around their throats.

Percy regarded them for a moment, his features blank.

"I suspect my wife may have a thing to say about your hanging two of her personal guard."

“She’d have to know where you are, my little lord.” The goliath spread his arms wide. “This is my court, de Rolo. The court of Toureg. The court of the herd of Stormwind.”

Toureg noted the flash of some emotion across the humans face, taking it to be a flash of fear as the position that the captured lord was finally beginning to comprehend the hopeless position he was in.

“I’m certain though that you and your broom riding bitch has no recollection of myself from our last meeting.”

At this, Percy did look a little perplexed.

“On the whole,” he said thoughtfully, “I tend to remember when I associate with brigands and bandits.”

Toureg grunted. “Didn’t think so. But you made quite an impression on me and the boys from my old herd. From the herd of Storms.”

Here the goliath paused and Percy squinted up at him.

“That would likely then make you one of Kevdak’s lackeys. Can’t see Zanroar sinking so low –“ whatever else he was going to say was lost as Toureg growled and backhanded Percy to the side of the face, sending him to the  ground. Percy winced and held the side of his head.

Toureg leaned in close enough for his breath to form mist on Percy glasses.

“Don’t mention his name to me. The Herd of Storms was at the height of its notoriety under Kevdak. We had taken Westruun.” He straightened at this and continued. “We were sitting pretty until that runt Grog came in. It was trickery that got him close to Kevdak, and trickery that cost our herd leader his life. Then Zanroar got soft. We were helping people not hunting them. So me and the boys challenged him. But he wouldn’t listen. So we left, we formed the Stormwind and we’ll take him down. A Stormwind to remove the Storm. And we’ll take down those that left a goliath thinking his soft thoughts.”

Toureg was panting in rage by this point but Percy seemed to be growing calmer as he regarded the goliaths.

“From what I know of goliath society, that then means you are outcast from your herd. You failed in your challenge of Zanroar and he showed mercy. Was that the worse thing? Every day you live, you have to know you are only alive because Zanroar allowed it.”

The bellow of rage echoed around the hollow as Toureg forcibly grabbed Percy from the forest floor and hurled him towards the hanging tree. Percy crashed to the ground several yards closer to the tree and the dead bodies dangling from it.

He jolted back as the wicked edge of Toureg’s war axe cleaved into the ground an inch from his face.

“I don’t need you alive to set an example, de Rolo. But I’m not going to give you the mercy of a clean death.” With his teeth clenched, he pulled the axe from the ground and turned to the men around him.

“When the few of us from the Herd of Storms left, we were told that we couldn’t survive. But we did. When we came across those who stood against us, we killed them. When we decided to grow in numbers, we did so. And I told you, all of you, that we would start our revenge with Lord de Rolo. And we have reached that time.” Here he turned back to Percy. “It’s been a few years since the Chroma Conclave, de Rolo. Your exploits seem to have been quiet since then …”

“… well there was a god …”

“… while ours continue to grow. We formed the herd of Stormwind to sweep away the old herd and return to our glory …”

“…out with the old, in with the old …”

“’… as a herd whose name is feared across Tal’dorei. We have ravaged your trade routes …”

“…a couple of caravans …”

“… caused disorder amongst your citizens…”

“… who owned those caravans …”

“ … and defeated those forces you sent against us …”

“… only a couple of hunting parties so far …”

Toureg took a breath to continue and finally seemed to take note.

“You try to be so fancy with your words. But it’s you cowering in the dirt before us. What fancy words have you now?”

Percy was silent.

“That’s what I thought.” Toureg looked at his men with a smirk.

“If you would be so kind as to allow a moment for a man to deliver a response,” came Percy’s words, as he pushed his glasses back up. “You seem to think that you have a position of strength here, with your lookouts and your little hut. But the truth of it is that we hadn’t been bothered to deal with you until now.

“As you have headed north, your name has been noted, Toe-rag,” the pause before the name quite deliberate, “but we’ve treated you as a spot of inconvenient weather. ‘Oh that herd will blow over.’

At this he stood, hand still to the side of his head.

“But when your bluster continued, I’m afraid we had to take action. You have, my good fellow made a number of mistakes in this venture you have embarked upon.”

“Oh,” sneered Toureg, “do tell. I’m interested to see what your last words will be.”

“History shall record my last words but I doubt you will present to hear them. You have visions of grandeur, and seem to think that you will be a force to be reckoned with. But the small cohort, myself and my wife, the Mistress of the Grey Hunt let us not forget, the small cohort we brought with us on this sortie outnumber your men here at least two to one. The group that bought me here nicely revealed both your location and your call sign. Your little speech has bought plenty of time for them all to get into position.”

As Toureg regarded the human in front of him, he peered closer. There was something not right with this picture.

Percy continued, back now straight, every inch the noble lord, despite the dirt and the blood on his clothes, the bruise on his face.

“I give all of you here one chance to lay down your arms and surrender into our custody, to face trial in Whitestone for your banditry and the deaths you have caused.” His voice was not loud, but he projected with care and with ease. “Else my own forces, even now surrounding you, will be free to use whatever force is necessary to take you all down.”

There was a silence after he finished; loudly shattered as Toureg laughed.

“A fine speech my pretty lord. There was certainly confidence in your manner. But you have no forces nearby. My lookouts would have noticed anyone approaching.” He glanced up at the nearest watchout platform, and was a little perturbed to notice that it seemed to be empty. His gaze flicked to another, then another. They all seemed to be as empty.

“What the..?”

“Is something awry, Toe-rag? This would be an awful time for somebody to attack.”

Toureg spun back to the lord and finally realised what had been in front of him all the while. Percy was holding his bound hands to his head as if in pain from the backhand blow, but he was holding the wrong side of his head. The goliaths gaze was pulled to the earring just visible, the same he now remembered all the members of Vox Machina had worn in the fight in Westruun that Kevdak had lost, and the fight against Umbersyl that had seen so many of the herd slain before Vox Machina chased the black dragon to its lair; the earrings that they had used to talk to each other at distance.

Even as this thought hit him, a wave of noise echoed through the trees and there were suddenly a multiple of figures, dressed in Whitestone branded armour, or the lighter armour of the Grey Hunt, surrounding the camp. Arrows were loosed and there were a series of bangs and many of his herd were cut down by arrows and the snapping of gunpowder weapons

“Get them you fools!” He roared, swinging around to Percy, grabbing his face and slamming the humans head against the tree.

Percy dropped to his knees, stunned and Toureg continued to ignore the encroaching Whitestone forces. He stepped over to a pile of rope and pulled out an already tied noose which he quickly slipped over Percy’s head, batting away his bound hands. The goliath then swung the other end of the rope over the same bough that the two corpses of the Grey Hunt dangled from.

A lone Pale Guard charged the goliath as he wrapped the end of the rope around his non weapon hand. Toureg growled and batted the wild swing from the Guard, bringing his great axe back into the abdomen of the Pale Guard. As the Guard doubled over, Toureg brought his knee up into the Guards face and as she staggered back, brought the axe back around at neck level, a trail of blood in its wake. As the Guard dropped to the floor, Toureg strode towards the centre of the camp, bellowing challenges. As he moved from the tree, the rope wrapped around his arm pulled tight and Percy found himself lifted into the air, the rope constricting against his throat.

He grabbed desparately at the rope around his neck but couldn’t get purchase with his bound hands and he began to suffocate.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Percival's life in danger, can Vex get there in time to rescue him?

Vex’ahlia and the Whitestone forces had been following the party that had abducted Percival since the attack took place, Percival having thought about all they knew of the recent bandit activity on the road from Whitestone down to Westruun and the south of Tal’dorei. It had been his assumption from the targets chosen that this was targeted at the nobility of Whitestone and thus most likely at himself.

It had been his choice to appear to be travelling with just a few trusted guards, inviting the attack and abduction. Vex had not been impressed with the idea and particularly not when she realised that he intended for her to not be travelling with him. However, if Percival has correct in his assumption then it would be far too appealing a target if he seemed to be vulnerable.

And Vex, her Grey Hunt and a troop of Whitestone Pale Guard would be tracking them closely; the rangers doing the sneaky thing and the Pale Guard keeping in contact but not too close.

Vex had lead the Whitestone forces around the raiding party as they took their apparent prize back to the hollow that the bandits were currently based in. And knowing that two of her Grey Hunters had gone missing after being sent to check out this area meant that she had been able to move up ahead of the raiding party as they rested, slowly and carefully taking position around the camp.

As the raiding party returned, causing a distraction to the bandit lookouts, the Grey Hunt scouts began to move in, incapacitating them and allowing the Pale Guard to approach in turn.

Vex herself remained in the branches, using her broom to remain out of the sightlines but keeping her husband within her sight, and within the usuable distance of their enchanted ear-rings. Squads of Pale Guard, led by Kynan and Jarrett kept the half elf in sight so when Percival gave the signal, Vex was able to gesture them to move in.

The first few seconds went according to plan, Jarretts troop rushing down into the hollow with Kynan’s gunners providing covering fire. Vex’s own Grey Hunters were interspersed with the Pale Guard, several haven’t taken positions over the bodies of the bandit lookouts in the trees.

Vex swooped over the bandit herd, this so called Herd of Stormwind. Her first arrow was a bramble shot to one of the few goliaths, who cursed loudly as the ensnaring growth pinned him in place, and a second arrow piercing the hand of a second goliath who cried out, dropping her maul.

The half-elf heard the bellows of the herd leader as she was flying closer to the ground and looked over to see a Pale Guard keel over, grasping her life blood pouring from a gaping neck wound. Worse for Vex was seeing Percival wrenched up next to the swinging bodies, obviously choking.

Vex cried out in a mix of panic and terror and leant against her broom, bringing it around to face Toureg. She was drawing back on Fenthras, eye focussing on the rope keeping her husband in the air when the wounded she-goliath leapt at her, getting a hand onto the half-elf’s ankle.

Vex was unable to prevent the arrow going astray as she was pulled to the ground, broom sinking to the floor in her wake. The goliath maintained her hold and pulled out a wicked looking dagger with her wounded hand, raising it with murderous intent.

There was a blast and gunshot blasted through the goliaths shoulder. But the goliath, enraged, ignored the wound and swung down at the fallen half-elf.

By this point, Vex had got one hand to the pendant around her neck and the goliath suddenly found her dagger hand caught in the vice grip of an angry bear.

Trinket growled and bit down with the goliath crying out in pain before letting go of Vex’s leg to grapple with the bear she was now engaged with.

Vex scrambled backwards from the goliath – she was aware of Kynan rushing in, gun discarded and the flame tongue dagger carving through the face of a half-orc; she could hear Jarrett’s yelling as he skewered a bandit druid raising his hand against the Pale Guard onslaught – but she looked solely for her husband.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of him, swinging wildly, face going purple. But another goliath blocked her view, charging in with a great sword raised. She caught a glimpse of a spear wielding bandit coming at her from one side, the leader of the raiding party coming at her from the other side with a lecherous grin.

With a cry, she called forth the blessing of Pelor. The warm, divine light pulsed out from her dragon-scale armour – WHUMPF – and figures were pushed back on all sides, the three bandits nearest to her crashing to the ground.

Percy saw the blinding flash of the Blessing of the Dawnfather but as it at the end of a long black tunnel as his vision constricted. He was trying to swing to get a foot to the trunk of the tree and so use his spider climb boots but couldn’t manage it and had to face a very real possibility that he might not be getting down from this tree.

He could see Vex’ahlia scrambling to pickup Fenthras, could see Trinket, Jarett and Kynan fighting to keep the bandits from closing on her, could see Pale Guard and Grey Hunt alike moving in. He could see Vex glowing, her beautiful face pale as she locked eyes with him. His vision closed in just on her.

 _I love you_ , Percy thought as blackness began to engulf him.

“Not today, Freddie …”

The voice above him was soft, with a wry undertone, and the human felt the role around his neck swing a little more towards the trunk, as if a hand pulled it just a little more.

Toureg’s attention was currently held by a second Pale Guard, a large human woman, weapons drawn who feinted to one side then swung low, Toureg barely getting his axe in the way. He stepped to one side, keeping the tension on the rope and watched the Pale Guard. She leant lower behind her shield then stabbed at Toureg, who sidestepped again then smashed the fist holding his axe against her face. She took the blow and took a stride back, slicing Toureg’s side as she did so.

Toureg grinned – this was getting interesting – when a voice behind him arrested him.

“My dear Toe-rag, you are being most impolite.” Toureg turned away from the Pale Guard and looked incredulously at Percy, now standing sideways on the tree trunk, parallel to the ground, face flushed but now obviously breathing. The lord was pulling something from his belt and continued, “I have to insist that you learn some MANNERS.”

As he called out the last, Percy flung a metal ball at the goliath. Toureg was too taken aback by the sight of the supposed hangee with the rope still around his neck and over the branch to react in time and the ball connected. As it did so, it expanded, metal bands encircling the goliath from shin to shoulder, pinning his axe to his side. Percy then pulled sharply on the rope still around his neck and unable to brace himself, Toureg found himself pulled to the ground,

“And the most amazing thing, Toe-rag. Despite allowing my forces to encircle your own herd, that is still not the most lamentable thing that you have done today.” Here Percy bent, as if crouching though still standing parallel to the ground and rested his hands against the tree trunk.

He smiled to himself, muttering “ah, here we go” then looked across at Toureg.

“My good fellow, allow me to introduce Vox Machina.”

As he finished speaking, Toureg was shocked to see a large rend open in the tree trunk. For one instance, the goliath was sure he could see the Westruun skyline through the tree then several figures stepped through and the rend closed behind them.

Percy was already speaking as they stepped through.

“Grog, I have some playmates for you. They insulted Zanroar.”

Grog yelled and took off towards the fight. Toureg noticed the Titanstone Knuckles that had been Kevdaks, heard the clang as Grog crunched the together, felt the ground thud as he enlarged and charged the nearest goliath.

A small gnome in plate armour, shield on one hand, glowing mace in the other followed. She spoke a word of power and a soft glow settled around Percy, leaving some of his wounds closing up.

“Pike,” Percy called after her, “we need some of them to live.” He turned to the half-elf with red hair looked concerned at him on the side of the tree.

“And Keyleth, they are trying to take the name Stormwind.”

“WHAT!?!?” The half-elf turned back with fury suddenly in her eyes. She gestured with her odd staff with the floating crystal and Toureg saw out of the corner of his eye, a raging firestorm engulf the front of his hut, where a couple of his men had taken cover. The firestorm raced from the front of the hut, around a fallen Pale Guard and into the back of a clump of the herd. Toureg could remember the same firestorm racing around the central square of Westruun some years ago, the screams of those caught echoing between the houses.

Another series of thumps brought him back from his reverie and he re-focussed to see the druid shift from her slender form into that of a hulking earth elemental and stride off after Grog and Pike.

A human, no a half elf fighter, with sword drawn followed her into the fight.

That left a last gnome, idly strumming a lute and regarding the action.

“Really, Percy, we leave you alone for five minutes and you find all these new friends to play with.” He fake pouted a moment then thrust his groin forward and a beam of purple tinged lightning shot out from his groin, leaving trails of after-images across Touregs vision. The blast grounded against the armoured arm of a sneering half-orc who was blasted to the ground, wisps of smoke curling up from his body.

“Well, you know me Scanlan. Always need a new distraction.”

“Is Vex not keeping you distracted enough?” The vibrant gnome turned back to the battle in front of him. “Oi Pike. I forever love looking at yah, you are forever my lovely monstah! That’s it. All I got.”

A faint purplish glow settled for one moment on the armoured gnome, who briefly rolled her eyes fondly then, as Keyleths’ elemental form erupted from the ground sending two humans flying, she swung her mace upwards, smashing into the face of one of the before he hit the ground, leaving him a crumpled mess as he collapsed disjointedly. The half-elf fighter finished off the other human then charged at the she-goliath still wrestling with Trinket

Vex took advantage of the distraction and flew quickly over to Percy.

“Darling, are you okay”

Percy looked at her battered armour, wild eyes, with braid askew and just nodded.

“Trish,” the half-elf said, not breaking her gaze from Percy, “keep an eye on this scumbag here.”

The nearby Pale Guard didn’t drop her guard, attention on the restrained goliath before her, his blood still marking her blade.

“Yes, my Lady.”

Percy tilted his head. “Really he isn’t going anywhere.”

“Shush you.” Was the response as Vex took out a pocket knife and sliced through the ropes binding Percy’s hands.

“Yes dear,” he replied a little meekly.

“If you two are quite finished,” Scanlan shouted over his shoulder, another flash of purple light casting his profile into relief for a second, “there is a little fight going on over here.”

Vex didn’t turn from looking at Percy. “Is Grog playing with his food again?”

Percy smiled. “I think he’s been cooped up in Westruun for too long. Doesn’t want his game to finish _too_ soon.”

Toureg grimaced as he looked back to see the surviving remnants of his warband throwing down their weapons and desperately raising their hands in surrender. Grog held up a body by one leg and poked it with his axe, hopeful that it was just playing dead then dropped it, looking around with a hopeful look on his face.

“That was very good, Grog,” said Pike warmly. “You killed those goliaths but good.”

“I did at that.” He replied, actually preening. “You fellows are still lucky to have me around.” Promptly followed by a belch then he looked over at the half-elf.

"Derrig, you did okay but I think we are going to have to do some training for you."

The half-elf, wiping his blade clean, kept his face impassive.

"Sure Grog."

“So, what are we going to do with _him_.” Vex, having removed the ropes from Percy, now leant against him, one arm on his shoulder.

Before Percy could answer, Scanlan piped up. “Kill him.”

Grog turned rapidly and bounded over, his enlarged form covering the ground and blood axe raised for the killing blow.

“No Grog.” Vex said sighing and Grog left a furrow in the ground as he skidded to a halt, dejectedly lowering his axe. She glared over at Scanlan, who was currently lounging on Bigby’s hand. He looked innocently back at her.

“Not yet at least, “continued Percy. Grog’s eyebrows raised again somewhat hopeful. “He needs to stand trial,” the eyebrows also lowered dejectedly. “He needs to stand trial before the citizens of Whitestone and be prepared to make reparations for what he and his band have done.”

Grog didn’t say anything but looked like a sulky teenager.

Vex took over. “Grog dear, what’s worse than death for a goliath?”

Grogs brow creased in the way when he was thinking hard. Just as his mouth opened, Vex interrupted him, slightly dreading what he would reply. “Enslavement, Grog. Like for Stonefell.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s pretty shit.” Reverting back to his non-enlarged form, Grog wandered over to the bodies and became to loot them, high-fiving the earth elemental as he did so. The earth elemental continued to walk towards the form of Toureg, making a sound like rocks clashing together.

“Keyleth, dear,” said Vex, “None of us speak any Elemental. Still”

The elemental shimmered as it reached the bound form and the half-elf arch druid, stood over Toureg glaring at him. Derrig followed in her wake.

Percy, who had moved over to reclaim his weapons, returned. “I imagine our dear druid would have been berating you on your choice of herd name. Stormwind is very definitely a name that you do not get any claim over.

“Scanlan, would you mind rolling our guest over please?”

Scanlan made a show of his back suddenly hurting for a moment until a slight clang revealed Pike crossing her arms and giving him a stern look. He shrugged, smiling and gestured, Bigby’s hand easily flipping Toureg face down into the dirt.

As Toureg spluttered, clearing mud from his mouth, Percy said “Manners” and the bands retracted. Before Toureg could do anything more, he felt manacles clamp down on his arms, securing them behind his back.

The female Guard alongside a Marquesian Guard picked him up by the arms

Percy turned back. “Kynan!” He called.

“Yes, my lord.” Was the response from over his shoulder and Percy jumped slightly to see Kynan standing behind him.

“I’m sure I’ve asked you not to do that.” Vex bit her lip as Percy continued. “Assemble the troops. Line them and the prisoners before the tree, if Keyleth doesn’t mind using a transport via plants..?”

“Sure.”

“We’ll get the Guard and the Cavaliers straight back to Whitestone with the prisoners. As for the Grey Hunt, what are you wanting to do with them? Not certain we will get all of them back through the tree.” He turned to Vex here who looked askance back at him.

“Darling,” she replied. “The Grey Hunt is for me to decide. And they already have their orders.” Percy looked around, blinking as he realised that all of Vex’s hunters had vanished.

“You know, there are far too many sneaky people in Whitestone’s forces.”

Vex smiled and cupped her hand on his cheek. “You know you love it really.”

The Lord of Whitestone turned to Pike. “Would you mind sending a message to Tary, please? Apologises for the necklace going off but everyone fine.”

“Already done, Percy,” the gnome replied with a smile.

“And thank you for coming so quickly.” He added. “All of you,” looking around at Grog, Scanlan, Keyleth and Derrig. “I hadn’t actually planned on him removing the necklace and I’m impressed how quickly you were able to find us.”

“Well, Keyleth has something from all of us by now so she can scry easily. Though it was fortunate that one of her people was able to get her to Westruun to retrieve us. We knew something was up from the moment the necklace went off so we were ready when she arrived in hurry.”

Keyleth stepped up. “Really need you to be careful, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry for causing you any distress.”

The Pale Guard lined up quickly, flanking the prisoners, a warm glow infusing one or two wounded as Pike quickly healed those who needed it. The dead bodies of Whitestone’s forces were recovered, to be returned to their families.

Keyleth gestured and a hole opened in the tree. The Pale Guard trooped through quickly, Toureg shocked to see the ramparts of Whitestone, very definitely not the view he had seen when Vox Machina had descended then he was hussled through.

Percy shouted out as the troops passed.

“Trish, Jarett, take especially good care of him.”

Trish merely nodded but Jarett flashed a quick grin, “Of course,” not stopping.

The tree formed up behind the last of the Pale Guard, leaving just Vox Machina in the hollow and the corpses of the dead bandits.

“Keyleth, another favour, I’m afraid. We need to dispose of the bodies.”

The half-elf sighed but nodded. She turned back to the bodies and flames covered her body as she switched to a fire elemental.

Scanlan grimaced. “That’s a little grisly.” He kept his back to Keyleths work.

“We have a history of undead in these parts.” A flare of fire obscured his eyes behind his spectacles.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, until …

“You mean, like with the Briarwoods and stuff?” Grog’s brow was creased again and the rest smiled without meaning to, it suddenly apparent that Grog had spent the silence thinking about the literal words uttered by Percy.

“it’s going to take Keyleth a little while to finish up there.” Percy looked over at Scanlan, “it may be worth getting the mansion set up for us in the meanwhile.”

“weelll,” the gnome drew out the word for a long moment, “sure.”

A door shimmered into existence off to one side. Vex and Percy headed in, Trinket on their heels and Pike and Scanlan followed after; Grog made as if to follow then looked over a Keyleth, now using her magic to move the earth and decided to wait with her, taking a moment to check the now charred remains of the wooden hut. Derrig remained to one side, part watching his tribe leader and part watching the woods around them in case of further attack.

He looked over at Grog. 

"It's never boring with you, is it, big guy?"

"Only when shopping is involved," a hint of a mournful tone from the goliath at even the thought of shopping.

Pike stepped back out a few moments later; almost unconsciously Grog lifted her onto a shoulder. They watched Keyleth finish moving the earth into a series of rough mounds and as the sun began to set, all stepped into the Mansion.

It was a minute or so later that Percy stepped back into the hollow and approached the tree that sometime earlier he had been hanging from.

He stopped to regard the tree for a moment in silence then stooped down and plucked a single snow drop from a clump near the roots.

“Thank you.” He said simply, holding the flower.

Scanlon stuck his head through the door.

“Oi Percy,” he yelled, “your wife refuses to confirm the stories surrounding your pet bear.”

Before he turned away from the tree, Percy gave a smile that was in part happiness and exacerbation.

“Scanlan, I’m pretty certain that Tova isn’t some grand mistress of a underground network of spy bears …” he returned into the mansion and whatever was said after was not audible.

 

There was a few moments of silence then a shape moved against the bough of the tree.

“Still need you to look after Stubby ….”

There was a soft sound, as if a pair of raven wings flapped once then silence returned to the hollow as the sun passed below the horizon.  

… which passed from the hollow …

… up from the Patchwood …

… beyond the Alabaster Sierra mountain …

… expanded to Tal’dorei …

And resolved into Exandria, visible in a glowing pedestal.

 

The Dungeon Master finished writing into the tome, which promptly snapped the quill from his hand and flew off under the desk

He sighed at it then reached down and picked up one of the models on the pedestal, a figure in motion with a pair of wings on their back and a dagger in each hand.

“I swear he does this sort of thing now just to make me take his figure out of the cabinet.” Looking up and over at the model display cabinet with the embossed VM logo

The tome ignored him and attempted to crunch the quill between it’s vellor pages.

The Dungeon Master sighed again and gestured over the pedestal, picking up models and moving them over to the cabinet before coming back. To regard it, veiled face underlit by the magical glow.

“Now then, what’s happening in Wildemount …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had started this one with the intent to keep it as a POV from Vex but decided that thoughts from both Percy and Toureg were more interesting.
> 
> I'm also still not certain about including the Dungeon Master in this piece. I think it probably scans better without his segments but I did want him to return somewhere in the ongoing series


End file.
